


Slow Dancing With The Sheriff

by WildfireKhaleesi



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, Stranger Things 2, hopper fluff, hopper x reader - Freeform, stranger things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildfireKhaleesi/pseuds/WildfireKhaleesi
Summary: Anonymous said:Hopper prompt, maybe something where reader was with hopper for the whole upside down, maybe it’s a rainy night and she calls him at the station cause she is scared, queue some Hopper reassurance of coming by to spend time with her? Does that work?Anonymous asked:18 & 27 with Jim Hopper





	Slow Dancing With The Sheriff

Your nightmare is replaying over and over in your head, relentless in its attack against your anxiety.

You shiver, clicking the numbers you know by heart on your telephone and holding the bulky contraption to your ear.

He answers on the second ring, showing you that he hadn’t left his office yet, low drawal of his voice already alleviating some of the fear that’s paralyzed you to your mattress.

“H-hopper?” Your voice shakes, which doesn’t surprise you in the least, but it does surprise him.

“Y/N?” He asks, and you answer him with a breathy sob, relieved that he answered and that he knows you’re on the other end of the line. “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

You’re incapable of answering, sobs wracking your body as you try your hardest to word your concerns.

“I can’t…” Is all you manage to get out, breathing harsh and loud.

He’d been with you and Joyce to the upside down to retrieve Will, and you’d nearly died. He’d been with you in the tunnels under Hawkins, unable to escape until Bob and Joyce had shown up.

You couldn’t even recount the memories, they’d scarred you so badly. Hopper had been the only person capable of understanding your fear, anger, and loneliness.

And the death that had surrounded you the past year had been absolutely crippling; just, too much for you to deal with alone.

“I’m on my way.” Hop says reassuringly, voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You nod your head, not realizing that he can’t see you, and whisper your thanks into the telephone. The receiver clicks off, and you can feel the darkness creeping back in, overloading your senses and wrapping tendrils around your body.

It didn’t seem to matter how carefully you tiptoed around the subject of the upside down, it always crept into your dreams, scaring you senseless, keeping you under until you’d tossed and turned yourself awake.

Hopper had been the only person successful at ebbing your nerves, always finding ways to lighten your mood and let you know that you were, in fact, not alone.

You manage to pull yourself into a sitting position, legs criss crossed, blanket draped over your shoulders.

The alarm clock you keep beside your bed tells you that it’s 2:15 AM, and you feel bad for having pulled Hopper from whatever work he was doing at the station.

You’d always managed to call him at the most inconvenient of times, but remarkably, he’d always shown up, never once leaving you hanging.

You’d chalked it up to the babysitting you’d done for him, watching Jane whenever he’d asked, sometimes even helping him to host the D&D nights the kids would occasionally hold at his cabin.

Hopper surely appreciated your help, and didn’t want to disregard or belittle the help you’d required from him. He was good like that.

You look at the moon resting in the sky beyond your bedroom window, peaceful; stars littered across the black space around it. It seemed so ironic that something could be so tranquil considering everything the last 400 days had subjected you to.

Simply put, it wasn’t fair. Especially on Will.

You shook your head, and jumped as Hop knocked his knuckles against your front door.

The light blue slippers next to your bed are easy to slide into, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to press your feet against the cold of the hardwood floor.

Shuffling, blanket still adorning your shoulders, you head to the entryway of your small home that your job as a nurse had helped you obtain. The four paned window that’s inset in your red front door shows you Hopper, and you smile at him, face swollen and sticky from crying. He grins back at you lightly, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers in a small wave.

“I’m sorry I called so late,” you start as you let him inside, but he waves your apology away and heads for your record player, thumbing out the Tears For Fears record and putting it on the spinner.

You quirk an eyebrow at him as the first song comes on. He wiggles his hips in response, dancing.

Your face cracks into a smile, giggles rippling through your chest, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Dancing, you going to join me or not?” He smiles when you roll your eyes, and makes room when you join him, hips swinging and hair flipping to and fro.

Ideas As Opiates comes on, and both of your dancing slows, breathing heavy and smiles wide. You’re surprised when Hop faces you, and holds his hands out; but you take them, large and warm into your own.

His hands guide yours to his shoulders, and then they rest on your hips, and you start slow dancing with Jim Hopper in your living room.

“Didn’t know you liked Tears For Fears,” you tell him, looking at his eyes under the shadow of his Sheriff’s hat.

“Course I do.” He answers, “they’re great.”

You smile at him lightly, “thanks for coming, you didn’t have to.”

“And miss out on dancing with you? No. Regrets.” You’d assumed he was joking, but his face stays straight. “I like spending time with you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, suddenly very self conscious, “I like spending time with you too, Jim.”

He blushes lightly, at least, you think he does. It’s hard to tell under his hat.

What you can definitely tell, though, is how close his face is getting to yours, all nervous and shy, reflecting exactly how you’re feeling.

You close the distance, lips pressing softly against his own, arms moving from his shoulders up and wrapping around his neck.

His hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you sigh against his lips, eyes opening slowly and gazing into his.

“That was nice.” You whisper.

“Agreed.”

He presses his lips against you again, spinning slowly with you in tune with the song.

For the first time in a long time, you’re not scared.


End file.
